


Storms aren't all that bad (but I won't let you go)

by AnotherAnonymousAuthor



Category: Women's Hockey RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-14 16:39:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4571850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherAnonymousAuthor/pseuds/AnotherAnonymousAuthor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Florida. Two weeks. Just you and Hilary. What could possibly happen?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Storms aren't all that bad (but I won't let you go)

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd. First Hockey RPF so please be easy. I hope it reads okay.

Florida is hot and sticky, and the guy who signs over the rental car to you mentions that a storm is coming so it would be best to leave the roof up.

You look at Hilary and then at the mustang in front of you and wonder where the heck you’re supposed to fit two equipment bags and your luggage.

Somehow you manage it; she pouts for fifteen minutes because you made her let you drive and she had to sit your backpacks in her lap. She gets revenge when she opens her snapchat account and records everything for the rest of the afternoon.

A rumble can be heard over the radio and you blame her because she promised good weather if you said yes; she jinxed it.

\\\

The storm settles as you make dinner and Hilary keeps recording (you refuse to leave her in the kitchen unsupervised because one time she almost burnt down your apartment trying to make toast).

There wasn’t much in the house the two of you are renting so you caved on pasta until you can get to the store and you convince her to do the clean-up. Training can start tomorrow instead.

It’s almost two hours later that you hear her trudging around in the master bedroom down the hall as she gets ready for bed. You climb out of bed and make your way to the only room in the house that had a bed big enough for her.

You peek a glance and she’s picking through her suitcase when you clear your voice.

Immediately she asks if she woke you and you mutter something about being unable to sleep. Hilary doesn’t ask even you think it’s kind of pathetic that you’re a grown woman who is still unsettled by a storm, and you appreciate it. Okay, you really fucking hate storms and tropical ones are the worst.

You stand shyly in the doorway as she walks around in a sports bra and shorts (and you can’t help but stare a little bit because let’s be honest, who wouldn’t?) until she asks if you plan on standing there all night or if you actually want to get some sleep and she pulls back the covers for you.

The thoughts are shaken from your head because you’ve literally seen all it before but you can’t help but indulge yourself a little even though you’re pretty sure she’s smirking because she caught you gawking.

A loud clap makes you jump once you’re settled, and she silently reaches for your hand and starts asking about training plans for the week; after all, this is your off-season training and both of you plan on actually working out.

You fall asleep halfway through planning a weights session.

\\\

The sun is shining through the gaps in the curtains where Hilary forgot to close them properly and you shift and begin to groan at the invasion of light until you register your current position.

There’s an arm around you and it’s pulling you closer; there’s an arm under your pillow that isn’t yours; there’s a steady breath on the back of your neck and you’re unbelievably comfortable.

Behind you Hilary is playing the big spoon and it’s pretty much a perfect fit.

You start thinking and that’s a slippery slope because you’ve flirted since college and you’ve shared an apartment and a bed more times that you can count but it never moved past two friends flirting and living together and waking up in the same bed after cuddling in your sleep and a late night watching movies the night before.

You start to wonder about ‘what ifs’.

But it can’t happen because you’re teammates and friends and you don’t want to risk losing her. So you don’t let yourself indulge and reluctantly untangle yourself and begin to head for the kitchen, telling her when she calls for you that you’re starting breakfast.

You chug water in an effort to cool yourself down before she follows you.

\\\

Three days later and you’re just shy of sprinting to keep up with Hilary as you round the block corner to see your seven mile run in the afternoon sun coming to an end.

You force yourself to push harder, trying to beat her to the letter box, but she doesn’t even look like she’s struggling as she raises an eyebrow at you and picks up her pace. Both of you can be fiercely competitive, and when you’re going up against each other it’s hard to tell who's worse.

There’s a crack in the pavement that you don’t see and you stumble and her smirk drops.

All of your weight rests on your left leg and she asks if you’re okay while you catch your breath and check your ankle.

You laugh, slowly walk it off and tell her she’s cooking tonight.

\\\

Hilary doesn’t even realise she’s doing it until you tell her that it tickles.

As a precaution, she makes you ice your ankle after dinner and a shower; the last thing you need going into camp in a month is an injury.

She’s sitting in the middle of couch with a cushion and your foot it in her lap and your shin is now an arm rest. There’s a replay of the Lightening at Anaheim and even though you know the score, you’re both yelling at the TV.

Fingers are tracing the inside your ankle as she follows the puck across the screen and yells some more.

But it tickles and she stops.

\\\

Its adventure day which means Hilary just wants to do something other than workout all day. It’s time for some fun in the sun, and for her GoPro to finally make an appearance.

Your ankle is taped (just in case) and you’re glad you did as you balance yourself on your board and paddle on behind her.

Thankfully you hadn’t stacked it yet and fallen in because you know that would give it away that you’re staring again. She tries to push you off more than once and you threaten to let her starve if she managed it.

There’s another storm expected tonight but it’s supposed to be further down the coast so you grudgingly let the tall one drive and you steal some of her fries as she navigates towards the cliffs so you can have a look. You have to remind her about your relationship with storms, but she grins and says that she wouldn’t let anything happen to you (she promised) and your stomach flutters a little but you ignore it.

It doesn’t work.

There's a selfie as you have a mouthful of food and a glare aimed in her direction while she smirks. (When you check later, she never posted it online).

You sit side by side on the bonnet of the car on a service shoulder off the main road and finish your burgers, and twenty miles down the coast you can see the clouds flashing, a few bolts hit the water. It’s not cold but it still makes you shiver and you’re staring, stuck waiting for the next flash.

It’s kind of fucking beautiful, you say. Hilary agrees but she’s not waiting and watching down the coast.

She’s watching you.

Your cheeks flush. 

But a clap of thunder effectively ends the moment and you let out a little squeak because shit that was close which makes her smile, so she grabs her rubbish and she grabs your hand and makes good on her promise.

Neither of you let go the whole drive home in the rain.

\\\

Tropical storms suck because it’s hot and sticky and _wet_ but with the air con on inside and a quick cold shower, you feel better.

You fall asleep curled into her side with an arm around your back.

Few words had been said after you got home, but it was such an easy comfortable silence that you didn’t need to.

Something was different, the way your hands were linked and how she wouldn’t let you stray too far.

You could figure it out later.

\\\

Except it’s been two days and nothing has been said.

Hilary hasn’t taken your hand again since you woke up alone. You panic in your mind but you keep your mouth shut.

It’s a little stilted but she smiles and quirks an eyebrow and for a moment it’s normal again.

The ‘what ifs’ sneak back into your mind and you drive yourself crazy.

\\\

There’s a rink and it’s kind of shitty, but it’s still a rink and when your skates break through that top layer of ice you can actually feel that worry about Hilary begin to ebb away even though she’s up the other end of the ice getting her legs.

For a few moment’s you watch her glide, before you take a breath and a puck and get to work.

You practice for an hour until you realise that the two of you aren’t clicking (that won’t go down well when you actually have opponents) so you call her out.

At first she plays dumb (nothing is wrong, and it’s probably just that you haven’t been on the ice in two weeks) but then you’re in her space and her shoulders slump and she’s staring at from under the brim of her snapback (okay something is wrong and she can’t quite figure it out).

You know a lot about Hilary; she has an addiction to snapchat and her GoPro and chocolate (but don’t tell the coach), and she’s one of the best players you’ve ever seen; she’s more introverted than people realise and her heart is huge; even though you give her crap about being so tall, she’s just the right height for you to fit under her shoulder.

There’s still a lot you don’t know but you want to.

It’s her face that gives her away; there’s the second that it takes you to recognise it as fear and your heart clenches because _Hilary Knight_ is _never_ scared.

You drop your twig and let yourself wrap an arm around her waist. In the middle of the rink you listen as she says that the two of you are okay or that you will be okay.

And when she smiles at you, you can swear that it’s just for you and in that moment you believe her.

She presses a kiss to your temple and lets you go.

You have a workout to finish.

\\\

You wake up first.

It’s time for a rest day, so you let yourself just be and refuse to think.

Hilary is using you as a pillow but you don’t really mind so you just lay there while she sleeps. The fear you say the other day at the rink has gone completely and you’re glad because you know you prefer the peacefulness on her face. You can actually _feel_ just how closely your bodies are pressed together.

You get restless easily and your fingers start tracing the Olympic rings on her shoulder until her head buries into your shoulder and she stretches against you and you can’t help the smile.

There’s the sleepy hello and a moment for just to two you, the kind that you only see in those romantic movies or read in a Nicholas Sparks novel.

You relax by the pool and shamelessly watch as she takes selfies and you laugh out in the sun and soak up some colour. She shows the world that you're both wearing your team issued sports bras and you shake your head. The two of you move easily around each other, but there’s a nervous energy following you all day.

You’re not sure if it’s you or her.

She flinches when you try to push her in, but yells and grabs your wrist and all of a sudden there is water up your nose and Hilary is in your space and your back is against the tiles.

A wet finger traces your face. There’s a stillness between you that you can’t describe but your heart is in your throat and your breath hitches just under it.

And her lips are on yours.

\\\

She’s still hesitant to kiss you four days later, but she grins and _giggles_ until you make a move.

You’re a little distracted so your workouts suffer but you can’t help that you’re a little distracted.

There’s a talk that you need to have before you leave Florida in two days. Your intentions disappear when you get pinned against the couch.

\\\

On your last night in Florida, there’s another storm that’s the worst you’ve had yet.

She doesn’t even question it, but actually pulls you into the master bedroom with a grin and you can barely turn the TV off.

Hilary in laying on her back and you’re settled against her staring up at the roof; you play with your joined hands and start talking things through. Camp is in two weeks and you’ve got appearances and kids camps in between but you don’t want to leave without knowing where you stand.

Thunder claps and it feels like the whole house shakes. You don’t flinch because you’re comfortable and you’re safe.

She gives you your answer when she whispers in your ear.

“I won’t let you go.”


End file.
